


ceiling fan

by uneventfulhouses



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Vaginal Sex, Weed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:08:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22756054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uneventfulhouses/pseuds/uneventfulhouses
Summary: When she looks over at Ryan, he’s busy rolling another joint. Mari’s thirsty, hungry, but all she wants to do is smoke this, and then let him press his body against hers, let him fuck her til she aches from it, til her back hurts and her hips twinge.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Marielle Scott
Comments: 10
Kudos: 14





	ceiling fan

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes jess and i get to talking, and then sometimes i get to writing. this was inspired by her [post](https://sequencefairy.tumblr.com/post/158532719198/were-getting-stoned-naked-limbs-sprawled-across). 
> 
> thanks for the beta, jess.

The air is sticky hot; Los Angeles has always been unforgiving in the way it bleeds heat, sitting stale in the air. 

The AC has been out for most of the morning; Mari and Ryan are baking in her living room, the sliding glass door to the balcony left open to catch a breeze if they can. 

It would be so easy to find somewhere else, a movie theatre, a shopping mall, a grocery store; they could sit in traffic with the AC blasting and music on low, Ryan holding her hand over the gear shift as he drives. They opt for the heat instead, the greediness of each other’s mouths as they lay against blankets draped on the hardwood floor of her living room. He’s beautiful here, shirtless underneath the unrelenting glow of the sun, eyes heavy-lidded when they look up at her. His hair sticks to his forehead; he’s so fucking stoned, and so is she, giggling and turning away from the suggestion in his gaze. It’s too hot for his body, and he always runs hotter than hell. 

The want, though, climbs her bones; clumsy, lazy. There’s music playing in the background, something bass heavy—she doesn't recognize it, but it thrums, mimicking the hard beat of her heart. When she looks over at Ryan, he’s busy rolling another joint. Mari’s thirsty, hungry, but all she wants to do is smoke this, and then let him press his body against hers, let him fuck her til she aches from it, til her back hurts and her hips twinge. 

There’s the scratch of a lighter and Mari watches as Ryan lights the end of the joint, the light of the flame flickering against the shadows of his face for a moment and a half. He inhales, eyelashes fluttering as he holds the smoke deep in his lungs. He sets the lighter down on the blanket and Mari settles herself on his lap, pressing her mouth to his to breathe in, let the smoke fill her lungs before she blows it out against his mouth, letting her tongue swipe over his bottom lip. 

“‘S too hot to fuck,” she whispers, but he’s trying anyway, touching his hot hand to her waist, her hip, her ass, pulling her close. God, she wants him, and she’s gonna have him, flimsy excuses melting under the LA heat, underneath the persistence of his mouth. She drags her hips against his, feels him hardening underneath her ass when she does, moaning low as he sucks in another inhale of the joint and gives it to her. 

There’s a rasp in the back of her throat, a thirst that drips down to her fingertips, hands slipping over his sweaty shoulders, his chest, pinching his nipples just to hear him groan and latch his mouth to her shoulder, tasting the salty sweat. His fingers pull at the strings of her bikini top, frilly orange lace falling between them before he tosses it aside. He gets his mouth all over her, and while he does, she pairs the wetness of his tongue on her nipple with the heavy, sticky smoke of the joint when she takes it from him. She takes a long drag and the smoke tickles her throat on its way down; she tilts her head back and blows it up towards where the ceiling fan spins. 

There will be little purple bruises over the expanse of her throat later, when the air has kicked back on and they’re satiated enough to keep their hands to themselves, but right now, she revels in the wet insistence of his lips, sighs as she rocks her hips against the hard line of his cock, catching him just right so she rubs herself properly, lazy, thrilling shocks of arousal pulsing deep in her abdomen. 

Another drag, another breath she breathes into him, and when they’re done, he tastes like weed, like want, like the promise of sex so good it’ll leave her boneless. Mari is a girl meant for experimentation, an extrovert willing to try everything at least once, but she finds herself loving tradition here, loves the steady thrum of his hips when he fucks her missionary. He lays her on her back, stripping out of his shorts and tugging hers down the prickly, unshaved expanse of her thighs. She lets her legs fall open to either side, accommodates his shoulders between them so he can lean down, lick her wet, lick her desperate, until her back is arching off the floor and she’s nearly breathless. When he leans back, he’s hard between his thighs, cock dripping, and it’s too hot to fuck, but she doesn’t care. 

“Come here,” she says, reaching her hands for him, and he comes, with a grin so devilish she feels the sinful lapping of hellfire swipe over her flesh. 

“Thought it was too hot,” he murmurs to her, his teasing words catching against her lips. 

“Want you to fuck me, baby,” she replies, her mouth sticky around the words, but she looks up at him through hazy eyes, catching the cloudiness of his own. 

The feeling of him sliding inside of her feels like a reply; he sinks inside of her slowly, lowering his body so they stick together from sweat. The backs of her knees settle over his forearms and he starts. It’s lazy, slow, like he’s trying to drive her incrementally insane. She throws her head back, falling into the feeling, the gorgeous rush of lust that settles like a blanket over her skin. He feels good, thick, and she’s so wet for him. The smacking of their skin resonates in the room, playing like a backtrack to whatever music they decided to play when they started this. 

The scent of weed still permeates the air; Ryan’s so loud when they fuck, mouth so filthy when he’s got his cock wet from her, stroking in deep. 

“Look at you, baby, takin’ my cock like a good girl,” he says, hips thrusting so hard against hers. She arches her back, rolls her hips like she can be any more good for him. The praise ripples across her flesh and she’s close already, ready to feel the hot stickiness of his come inside of her, let it drip down against the backs of her thighs when she stands.

“Fuck, Ryan, _Ryan_ , yes,” she moans, raking her fingers though his hair, scratching fingernails down his chest as he fucks her faster, a little wilder, dropping the hold he has on her legs to get an arm underneath her hips and _lift_ her, keeping himself up with his other arm. His shoulders flex as fucks her deeper, earnestly, watching her with dangerous, dark eyes, and she can’t do anything but take it. Her shoulder blades rub raw against the blanket, but the lilt of pain is lost to the heat of him, the steady, hard way he presses inside of her. She wants to kiss him, she wants to kiss him, but that’s lost too, when everything blooms white hot inside of her, and she throws her head back, moaning loudly into the empty living room, listening to him praise her as she comes. Her hips stutter as her body trembles, toes curling as her thighs clutch around his waist. 

“That’s it, Mari, _fuck_ , look at you.” His voice is deep, transcendent, unlocks the pearly gates of heaven and lets her in. 

When he comes, it’s near silent, eyes shut, huffs of breath between the broken prayer of her name, sharp thrusts against her before he grinds out his orgasm, spilling deep inside of her. 

They lower to the ground, sex making them pliant, soft, hotter now, but too greedy to let each other go. She kisses over his flushed cheeks, the scruff of his jaw. 

“Always so good for me,” she whispers, and he smiles, like she’s lit him up from the inside, can see him glowing from the way she loves him. 

“Love you,” he tells her, kissing her like he means it. 

They lay there, against each other, sticky from come and sweat, but too lazy to move. Ryan sucks those promised bruises into her throat, cock soft against her thigh, and Mari sighs, looking up, and watches the ceiling fan spin before she lets her eyes close.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! [tumblr!](https://uneventfulhouses.tumblr.com/)


End file.
